The Pianist and his Dancer
by PoppyandViolet
Summary: Kurt Hummel is the most talented dancer at the McKinley School of Dance. Blaine is the new pianist who captures the hearts of all of Sue's students with his adorably dorky ways - only, Kurt may not be quite so easily impressed...
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: So basically I have this compulsive need to keep all of my shit together, so you may have seen this on my tumblr () or at the Klaine community on LJ, but I feel the need to publish this here too. -sigh-. So far I'm done the first twelve or so chapters so I'll put them up pretty quickly, while I'm working on the last two chapters. This story really is rather dear to me, so I really hope you guys enjoy it too :) x Poppy_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of the characters associated with it. _

* * *

><p>And the first time Blaine sees him he's running late, again. He's cradling his sheet music in a messy bundle in his arms, which are clad in a white button down shirt with the sleeves done up properly only on one arm. At least his suspenders are tied.<p>

God, he'd wanted to try really hard and make a good first impression. He had even gone out and practiced all of those pieces for Sue. He had been warned that Sue could find fault with anybody and everybody, but he had dreamed at being the only exception.

He half ran inside, clumsily stumbling through the door as he attempted to not only hold on to all his sheet music, but shove the rest of his biscotti in his mouth and try not to look like a fumbling idiot.

The receptionist bites back a laugh as she gives him directions to Studio 1 and he thanks her, dashing off down the carpeted hall. He hears faintly the sound of the recorded music he had spent so long practicing gently flowing through the glass doors and he pushes through, his chest heaving with nerves and exertion.

When he walks in the dancers all look up and as he paces to the piano, taking a large gulp of his coffee (and cursing silently when he realises it's still scolding and burns his tongue) and trying to shift through all the music to find the next piece.

"Mr. Anderson," Sue says smoothly when the music ends. "Thank you for finally joining us… I was beginning to worry that you had been eaten alive by the giant sea monkeys I set loose from the aquarium last week, but then I remembered that I had that worry gene removed yonks ago."

He feels her eyes look him up and down, taking in his suspenders, half done up white (now wrinkled) button down dress shirt, black slacks (the leg of which one has somehow tucked itself into the plaid sock of his left foot, which he quickly amends, cursing his decision to put his shoes on at the traffic lights), saddle shoes (which he hadn't had time to properly polish), still slightly damp hair (ungelled), slightly scraggly fingernails (because his nail clippers were a little rusty) and old glasses (since he hated wearing contacts). He could practically feel her judging him but he barely had time to process her words before she began barking at her students.

"Fabray," she snapped at a pretty blonde, "I've seen infants who had more turn out than you. Your fifth position is like a lame third. Fix it before I chop off your feet and you'll dance on stilts like a puppet from one of the horror films that I wrote and produced based on my own erotic fantasties."

Blaine quirked an eyebrow but he could tell from Quinn's horrified reaction that she was serious.

She quickly moved down the line of dancers, stopping every now and again to give various cruel (albeit, oddly creative) critisms, until she stopped at the front of the line.

And then he saw him.

Standing at the front of the barre, one of his long fingered hands delicately wrapped around the wooden stick, the other sassily placed on his hip bone which was covered by a pair of black ballet tights which did everything for Blaine's imagination (he couldn't really be wearing much else under, could he…? Wait. Undapper thoughts…). His beautiful face was tilted lightly to the side, his face contorted in mild amusement, his diamond like eyes sparkling under the fluorescent lights.

He was the most divine human Blaine had ever laid eyes on.

"Hummel," Sue's mouth quirks and Blaine braces himself for her expression worries him. He feels that he's probably going to get the worst of it…

"Keep doing what you're doing."

And Blaine lets out a sigh of relief.

At that (Blaine really hopes it wasn't that actually… how embarassing) Kurt looks up and the blue eyes that aren't really blue but aren't grey or green and the word diamond keeps popping up in Blaine's eyes and he can't help but feel that it's applicable because diamonds are beautiful and so are his eyes, but Blaine knows there's another word but he's too damn entranced by this beautiful creature that conherancy is not really important right now.

And in that moment when they lock eyes Blaine thinks he sees a spark of something in his gaze and for a second he feels hope…

and then Kurt's expression turns into one of light amusement and more than light disain.

And Blaine's heart sinks.

"Who's the new pianist?" Blaine hears Kurt say quietly to the short brunette beside him.

He doesn't hear her answer as he is too busy trying to fix up his dishevelled appearance as best as he can and find the next song. He does find it eventually and when Sue barks at him to start playing he's glad that he spent so long learning these pieces practically off by heart because now he has more time to watch the boy and-

Holy fuck he's beautiful.

Standing still he was easily the most incredible thing Blaine had ever seen. But when he danced…

Blaine found it hard to fathom how the other students managed to actually stand next to him without shrivelling up with embarassment and mediocrity because nothing could or ever would compare to him.

His movements were so graceful and impeccable that Blaine wanted to cry. He was so absorbed in his every step that (thankfully) he didn't notice Blaine's (creepy, stalkerish) staring and continued undeterred.

As the song came to a close and Sue began her next feedback, Blaine didn't stop looking at Kurt for a second. He reached for his coffee. He was suddenly feeling rather light headed.

How was he going to last the class?

Hell, how was he supposed to last the rest of the year?


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Yes, when I said I was updating quickly I meant _quickly. _And also, apologies in advance. This was written in 'parts' as opposed to 'chapters' on tumblr so the chapters will be rather small. _

* * *

><p>Despite his disastrous first impression, Blaine was well received by the school. He practiced his pieces daily and even Sue found it hard to find fault with him (she managed always managed though). He always arrived to class early and sat with the girls that he had befriended, playing them covers of their favourite songs while they stretched.<p>

But Kurt Hummel was not so easily impressed.

Today, he stood alone at the barre, one leg up as he stretched his hamstring. Behind him Blaine was playing a quirky cover of Lady Gaga's Telephone and the girls were laughing and singing along. Kurt rolled his eyes. That song was old. Besides, he wasn't _that _good…

When one of the girls let out a particularly loud squeal Kurt turned around to face them with a cold glare. Sue would be there any minute and he didn't want all of them getting in trouble because they couldn't control themselves…

"Hey, Kurtie!" Brittany, one of Kurt's friends and one of the girls who seemed particularly fond of the curly haired pianist, called, "come stretch with us!"

"I'm fine, thanks," Kurt said shortly, avoiding the glances of the other students and turning back towards the barre.

"Aww you're no fun," Quinn chided.

"Its okay girls," Kurt heard Blaine say. "We all have our own ways of _stretching ourselves out_…"

Kurt whirled around to face Blaine with shock. He just winked in return and Kurt blushed furiously as Blaine began to play the chords to what was undeniably Katy Perry's Peacock, sending the girls into another frenzy of giggles.

Kurt rolled his eyes at their immaturity.

"What's wrong, Kurt?" Blaine asked teasingly. "Don't you like my playing?"

"Not really," Kurt snapped. "Those songs are lame and your technique is choppy."

"It's just for fun, Kurt," Santana rolled her eyes. "Don't you _ever _have fun without worrying about being so perfect all the time?"

Kurt ignored her comment and instead turned to Blaine and awaited his response. He was met with an intrigued smile.

"One day, Kurt Hummel… one day I'll impress you," Blaine vowed solemnly. For some reason Kurt felt his face flush once more but was saved from having to reply as the doors to the studio flung open and Sue strolled in.

Blaine Anderson loved Sue Sylvester.

He loved that she spent lengthy periods during the lesson giving harsh crisitms to the other girls and loved that she played favourites and that Kurt Hummel was her favourite so he stood at the front all the time and while Sue was busy terrorizing the other dancers he was free to stare as much as he liked.

Because Kurt never once met his gaze. He completely ignored his presence.

But Blaine loved watching him. Even when he was standing still he was beautiful. His eyes were just _indescribable _and the rest of him was equally breathtaking. But it was when he moved that Blaine knew he was falling fast…

He was _easily _the best in the class. It was no wonder he was Sue's favourite. Blaine didn't know a lot about dancing, but he knew a lot about pretty things.

And pretty was an insult to Kurt Hummel.

He wished he could write music just so he could put his feelings into words. Because when he watched him dance it was like…

Like Christmas.

It made him feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside and he just felt like getting up and singing and dancing and crying for joy. Everything was bright and Blaine couldn't tear his eyes away.

And on his more hormonal days he just couldn't help but notice how _flexible _Kurt was. It was a good thing he had the piano to hide his… well, he should probably invest in looser pants anyway.

He was so pretty Blaine wanted to cry. And one day Blaine just _wished _that he would look back at him and see something in him, something that made him feel even an _inch _of what Blaine felt for Kurt…

And then maybe he'd have a chance.

Fuck Blaine loved Sue Sylvester.

"Alright, Hummel," Sue said after practice. "Get your ass over here.

Blaine wasn't sure what she was telling him, but he could see Kurt getting more excited with every word and his heart swelled with affection. God, he was beautiful.

The only words that Blaine heard were the ones that made Kurt's expression of happiness fall completely.

"-and Anderson will be your pianist for the competition."


	3. Chapter 3

"Oi, hobbit!" Sue called Blaine over when she was done talking to Kurt. "Get your scrawny ass over here."

Blaine quickly complied, nearly tripping over the untied lace of his boots. Kurt snorted condescendingly as he passed, taking his position at the barre where his friends were giggling girlishly at Blaine's clumsiness.

"Hummel has a dance compeititon coming up in a month," Sue informed his promptly. "Since there are no competent musicians in this cow town, you'll have to make yourself adequate. He will have one dance piece, and he will be practicing ever night after his usual class. You'll have to stay back to."

Blaine did not know whether to cheer or groan. Cheer because, hello, more time with Kurt. Groan because his hours were long enough as it was…

Eventually the cheer won and he smile broadly.

"That would be perf- I mean that's fine," Blaine stammered.

More giggles chorused behind him and Blaine blushed.

"First rehearsal is tomorrow night. I expect you to know at least half of this by then," Sue said firmly, shoving sheet music in his hand.

Blaine was about to assure her that he would memorise it in its entirety by the next night (Blaine was an _excellent _sight reader) until he actually _looked _at the music.

Well, shit.

"-and releve, tour, land, place, pirouette, sloppy Kurt!" Sue was chanting from her position at the front of the room.

Kurt was dancing his poor little heart out but it was hard to tell who was sweating the most. They had been at it for over an hour and as hard as the music was, the choreography was harder. The heat of Ohio's summer paid them no mercy and the airconditioner was broken, leaving the three of them tired, irritable and _hot._

Blaine would have found it almost erotic if he wasn't so busy trying not to fumble over the music as his slippery hands slicked around the keys that shined with the moisture of his own sweat. His hands ached from hours of playing and his brain hurt from concentration. He hadn't been able to get itno the music and enjoy it as he would have liked. This was the hardest piece of music he'd ever had to play in his life. He had done as Sue said and tried his best to learn at least half of it but there was this one bit that he couldn't quite grasp…

"Dammit Blaine!" Kurt cursed as Blaine stuffed up _again. _"Can't you ever get it right?"

"Anderson," Sue said severly, "I told you to learn that piece."

"I'm _trying_," Blaine grunted in response, making another note on his already heavily inked piece. B flat not natural… he kept missing that.

"Well that's not good enough," Sue snapped. "I'm tired and bored. Hummel you're footwork is going slack and you'll injure yourself if you continue. Again, tomorrow."

Blaine sighed in relief as he packed up the piano. Kurt sniffed haughtily as he slung his bag over his shoulder and sauntered out of the studio. Blaine watched him go with sadness. In his deep concentration he hadn't even gotten a chance to watch Kurt dance tonight.

Not ready to see him go just yet, Blaine said a hurried goodbye to his employer and hurried after Kurt.

"Kurt! Wait!" Blaine called as he saw him down the street.

Kurt stoped and turned towards him with an irritated expression. "Yeah?"

Blaine frowned at the gust of smoke that wafted past as Kurt exhaled from his cigarette.

"That's disgusting," he commented.

Kurt snorted. "So are your hands. I don't judge."

Blaine looked down at his hands. They were calloused from years of training and currently stained with sweat and streaked black ink. Yeah, Kurt was right there…

Blaine shrugged. "At least I'm not going to die from it."

"Well I can't dance forever," Kurt said casually. "And if I can't dance then I don't want to live."

"That's stupid," Blaine said quickly.

"So are you," Kurt snapped.

"Why are you so mean, Kurt?" Blaine couldn't help but ask. He could have sworn he saw a tiny flicker of emotion in Kurt's eyes before they narrowed.

"The whole world is mean, Blaine," he hissed. "Get fucking used to it."

"Not my world," Blaine said darkly.

"Well you're living in a fantasy."


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: I know a lot of you are commenting on Kurt's attitude. Yes, he's being (cough) not very nice, but you'll come to see that Kurt has a lot of personal issues and a lot of walls built up. I hope it plays out clearly for you all._

_Disclaimer: Haha sadly I do not own _Moves Like Jagger _or _Teenage Dream. _I can't tell you what the version I used is called, but I recall Darren did a live cover of it once on piano and it was fucking flawless. _

* * *

><p>Saturday morning Blaine is decently rested and arrives early as usual for the Advanced 2 class. The girls are stretching around the piano as usual and he has on his easy going smile, playing them a acoustic rendition of Santana's new favourite song.<p>

_I've got the moves like Jagger_

_I've got the moves like Jagger_

_I've got the mo-o-o-o-o-oves like Jagger_

The girls sing along heartily and Blaine hums with them. But he can't help his gaze from flickering constantly to the golden pocketwatch he has resting on the case of the piano to the double doors of the studio. Kurt is yet to arrive…

Oh wait. There he is!

Blaine's heart swells as he strides in, all 5.8 feet of perfection. He walks with an easy grace obtained only by dancers. He sits his bag down as usual and Blaine can't help a small sigh as he slips out of his tracksuit pants. He really is flawless.

Blaine's heart leaps as Kurt approaches and slides into splits next to Tina. All the other girls eye him with surprise. He _always _stretched alone.

Blaine grins. This is his chance…

"Hi, Kurt," he greeted him sunnily.

"Hey," was Kurt's short reply.

Undeterred, Blaine trails off his song, switching to a more practiced melody. He had spent all of last night memorizing this one. It popped into his head on the way home from the studio and he youtubed the acoustic version, learning it by ear until he was sure he had it right.

"What's this song?" Quinn asked curiously.

Blaine just grinned, starting to sing:

_Before you met me I was alright_

_But things were kind of heavy_

_You brought me to life_

_Now every Feburary you'll be my valentine_

He spares a glance at Kurt as he sings _Valentine_

His gaze flicks back to the keys and he _pours _himself into the song. It had been a while since he had sung and he was a bit out of practice, but he wanted this to be good. He wanted Kurt to know for sure how he felt.

_Let's just talk all through the night_

_There's no need to rush_

_We can dance until we die_

_You and I we'll be young forever…_

As he sings the chorus there are no giggles from the girls, but he wouldn't notice if they were. Right now the only thing that mattered right now was Kurt as he held his gaze with his sensational diamond eyes that made Blaine want to write fucking haikus. Flawless.

_You make me feel Like I'm living a teenage dream_

_The way you turn me on I can't sleep_

_Let's run away and don't ever look back don't ever look back_

_My heart stops when you look at me_

_Just one touch, baby I believe_

_This is real so take a chance_

_And don't ever look back don't ever look-_

But then everything comes crashing down as the double doors to the studio fly open and Sue Sylvester storms in looking even more irritable than usual.

Kurt breaks his gaze quickly, rushing to his feet and taking his place with the girls at the barre. Regret courses through Blaine and he sighs deeply, shuffling to take out the music for the class.

All he needed was one more minute. He could have sworn he was _that close _to impressing him. And he had lost his chance.

Blaine really hated Sue Sylvester.

Not only had she completely Kurt-blocked him, but she was being even more of a bitch than usual.

"Anderson!" Sue snapped angrily as he fumbled on a key. They were practicing Kurt's solo again and he _still _couldn't get that one point right. It was an important part too. If he didn't get it right, then Kurt's entire solo was ruined.

"I'm sorry!" Blaine cried, tiredly. This was about the _tenth _time this had happened and he was getting more and more frustrated. He had never had so much trouble with a piece before.

And Sue was only making it worse.

"I thought I told you to learn it!" she yelled.

"I'm trying!" Blaine protested.

"It's a famous piece that has been around for _hundreds _of years. You call yourself a musician…"

Her cold words stung and Blaine couldn't help but snap back, "well sorry, but I'm twenty one, not one hundred and twenty one. How the fuck would I know it?"

"Kurt is _seventeen _and been doing steps that have been around for _thousands _of years," Sue yelled.

Blaine couldn't help but spare a bewildered looking Kurt a look of surprise. _Only seventeen?_

"Well, I'm sorry, okay!" he yelled in frustration. "I'm trying, I really am, but it would really help if you would stop freaking yelling at me!"

"Hobbit cut that attitude! I'm your boss. Either you learn this piece, or get out."

Sue's words cut through him like a knife and he's gutted. He _needs _this job to help him pay his way through college but he's sick of being treated like crap all the time.

His fingers are reaching to snatch up his bag, but then he catches a glimpse of Kurt's face.

And he looks (for the first time since Blaine's known him) _frightened._

A thousand thoughts whirl in Blaine's head. Did Kurt not want him to go after all?

No. there was no way Blaine was leaving now.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. Sue lets out a sigh.

"Dammit," she cursed. "I thought I'd finally gotten rid of you."

Blaine doesn't miss the small smile on Kurt's lips as he returns to his beginning position.

Maybe he had impressed him after all…


	5. Chapter 5

The next few weeks flew by in a flurry of sheet music, dance rehearsals and strenuous amounts of coffee. The callouses on Blaine's hands were beginning to bleed from practicing so hard but the girls were unsympathetic, showing him their mauled feet.

And this was why Blaine was a musician, not a dancer.

It was a Friday night and for the first time in months, Blaine was not spending it in a crowded studio, but in a hotel room. Instead of the usual clacking of pointe shoes and chime of whatever tune Sue was making him play, the only sound filling the space was the distant sound of the bustling traffic behind the closed windows, and the light spray of the shower.

Blaine was sitting on the bed of the single room, his heart racing as he fumbled for his IPod. The splattering of the water against the tiles… and other places was filling Blaine with a desire he knew was inappropriate.

Sue, Kurt and him had arrived in New York just a few hours ago. Sue had informed them that they had only booked two rooms as Sue figured a couch would be decent enough for him. He didn't know whether to be angry at her casual dismissment of his comfort, or eternally grateful for the fact that he was _sharing a sleeping space _with Kurt.

Kurt had been furious. Of course he'd never say anything to Sue, but he could tell from the furious tapping of his fingers against the pads of his mobile, the way he had slammed the door to the hotel room shut with enough force to rattle the mirror on the side of the (admittedly slightly cramped) room and stormed into the bathroom without a single word to Blaine.

Over the light melody of Katy Perry's Firework, Blaine heard the steady spray subside and his chest tightened. _Do not picture Kurt getting out of the shower, _he urged his mind. As tempting as that was…

When Kurt finally exited, Blaine's heart thumped wildly in his chest. How was it possible for anybody to look _that _gorgeous in a light white t-shirt and blue sweatpants. Blaine had seen Kurt for the first time out of his dancer clothes that morning on the plane, and he was grateful for the distracting view from his window seat.

Let's just say that Kurt had a certain fondness for skinny jeans. Incredibly skinny jeans. Blaine didn't know whether to fear more for the circulation in Kurt's legs, or Kurt's wrath if he caught him staring.

As Kurt flittered around the room (giving Blaine a lovely view) laying out his things for the next day, he said to Blaine, without so much as looking at him:

"Lights out in half an hour. I have to be up at six tomorrow."

Blaine raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "Kurt, its nine o'clock. We haven't even had dinner yet!"

"I always have trouble sleeping before a competition," Kurt explained, folding his tights over a chair neatly. "And I definitely need a full eight hours, at least. And I'm not hungry."

Blaine's brow creased in concern. "Kurt you need to eat," he said gently. "You didn't have any lunch on the plane… and I bet you didn't have breakfast either."

"Of course I did," Kurt said skittishly. "Don't be ridiculous."

He didn't spare him a single look as he grabbed his cigarettes and lighter and slipped out the double doors onto the patio. Blaine breathed a deep sigh of worry. Kurt really wasn't taking care of himself…

Twenty minutes later, Kurt returned to the room, raising his eyebrow as he regarded Blaine's position on his bed.

"Hungry?" he said in a teasing tone. Blaine couldn't help but smile at his expression. He was adorable.

"Yes," he admitted. "But this isn't all for me…"

"I said I wasn't hungry," Kurt said shortly.

"And I don't care," Blaine shrugged, reaching for Kurt's hand. Not really to his surprise, Kurt snatched it away. But thankfully he slid onto the bed next to him anyway (albeit as far as away as he could manage, but that wasn't the point."

Blaine dug his fork into the large bowl of pasta and speared a piece onto it before leaning across the bed. Kurt regarded him with wide eyes.

"What are you doing…?" he asked warningly, moving to back away.

"Open up," Blaine said, his smile silly as he prodded Kurt's lips with the fork.

Kurt grimaced. "Take it away," he tried to say, but as he opened his mouth to speak, Blaine shoved the food in and he nearly choked.

"Chew," Blaine ordered. Kurt scowled and would probably have spat it out if Blaine hadn't clamped a hand over his mouth, forcing his mouth closed.

"Chew," Blaine repeated firmly. Rolling his eyes, Kurt complied, chewing slowly.

"Now swallow," Blaine smiled with satisfaction.

Begrudgingly, Kurt swallowed the pasta with a grimace.

"See, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Blaine cooed. Kurt narrowed his eyes.

"I thought you were hungry," he accused.

"Oh, I am," Blaine grinned, shoving some food into his own mouth and chewing happily as Kurt looked on in distain.

"I don't really… like eating," Kurt said uncomfortably, wrinkling his nose a little.

Blaine's face dropped into one of concern. "Why not?" he asked.

Kurt sighed. "Because… everyone says I'm perfect. To keep doing what I'm doing. And if I eat… and stop smoking… I'll start to grow… and put on weight… and I won't be perfect anymore… I won't be the same."

As Kurt's eyes glistened, Blaine felt his heart swell.

"Kurt," he said gently. "Just because you won't be the same, doesn't mean you won't be perfect."

Kurt blinked for a moment before pulling away from the bed suddenly.

"I need a cigarette," he said dully before slipping back outside.

Blaine sighed to himself. _You can't keep running forever, Kurt._

But who was he running from?

Blaine?

Or himself?


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Firstly, for the reviewer who mentioned it, yes, I am a dancer myself. As a matter of fact, this whole story is inspired by real life. One day after one of my classes, this girl was telling me about the dance program she was at. Apparently there was this really cute pianist who used to play them modern music before class and be all happy and cute. He'd laugh along with them when they'd get stuff wrong (sort of like showing them that it was all okay, that they could laugh at themselves) and used to get in arguments with the instructors because he couldn't play some of the music. The dialogue between Sue and Blaine about Blaine being too young to know the piece and the ballet dancers knowing steps from way back, was actually taken directly from what that girl told me. _

_So that's sort of how I was inspired to write it._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Tiny Little Dancer by Elton John. _

* * *

><p>After Kurt left, Blaine spent a considerable amount of time sighing to himself before eating the last of his dinner, making sure to leave some for Kurt (just in case) and grabbing his towel, slipping into the bathroom for a shower.<p>

As he washed, he couldn't help but sing to himself. He grinned as an old tune popped into his head.

_Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band_

_Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you'll marry a music man_

_Ballerina, you must have seen her dancing in the sand_

_And now she's in me, always with me, tiny dancer in my hand_

He belted out the Elton John classic into the bar of hotel soap, giggling as it slipped through his fingers. Running shampoo through his curls, he sang at the top of his lungs, not caring what the guests in the neighbouring rooms might think.

_Hold me closer tiny dancer_

_Count the headlights on the highway_

_Lay me down in sheets of linen_

_you had a busy day today_

When he was sufficiently clean, he hopped into his pyjamas, not bothering to dry his hair, and brushed his teeth. Stepping out of the steamy bathroom, he was hit by a wash of cold air as Kurt opened the screen door at the same time.

"Hi," Kurt said quietly.

"Hi," Blaine breathed. With the city lights illuminated against his flawless skin, Kurt looked _divine. _

"It's getting late," Kurt pointed out. "I'm going to bed."

Blaine nodded. "Okay."

He made his way over to the couch, tossing a spare pillow on the arm rest, thankful (for once) for his lack of height that actually allowed him to fit onto the leather.

"I liked the song you were singing," Kurt said conversationally as he pulled down the covers of his bed.

"You heard me?" Blaine blushed. He didn't know why that was so embarrassing. But then again, Kurt's opinion was a lot more important than a bunch of strangers.

Kurt nodded. "You're good."

Blaine's heart swelled. _Kurt really thought he was good?_

"Thanks," Blaine beamed.

Kurt nodded again, flicking out the lamp without warning. Blaine blinked blankly in the darkness.

"Goodnight, Blaine," Kurt said quietly.

"Night, Kurt,' Blaine grinned, snuggling up to his pillow.

* * *

><p>Unfortunately, the couch was a lot more uncomfortable than Blaine had suspected. Leather was not made for sleeping on.<p>

He tossed and turned restlessly until he ended up falling off the couch, slamming onto the carpet with a loud thud.

"Jesus, Blaine," Kurt hissed. "No wonder I can't sleep!"

"Sorry," Blaine whispered bashfully.

Kurt huffed. "Get up here."

"Pardon?" Blaine asked, his eyes widening.

"I said, get up here," Kurt said, sounding truly tired. "It's not really fair for you to have to sleep on the couch anyway... besides, I can't sleep with you tossing and turning like that. It's… making me edgy."

Blaine grinned. He didn't care about Kurt's reasoning. He was asking him to share a bed with him…

How could he say no?

Jumping onto the double bed eagerly, Blaine tucked himself under the covers and snuggled into the warmth. Kurt eyed him with amusement.

"Goodnight, Blaine," Kurt said before rolling over and closing his eyes.

"Night, Kurt," Blaine said happily.

As Blaine lay there in the moonlight he was filled iwht an overwhelming urge to just reach out and _touch _Kurt. To pull him into his arms and kiss his pretty hair and just _hold _him. He loved him so much it physically _hurt._

Yes. He was in love with Kurt Hummel.

Blaine grinned at the realization. Of course he was. Why hadn't he realized it before.

Suddenly, Blaine knew he couldn't resist and edged closer nervously. With a shy smile, Blaine wrapped his arms around the boy. He felt Kurt stiffen in his arms.

"What are you doing, Blaine?" Kurt whispered, but he didn't sound angry.

"Cuddling," Blaine said matter-of-factly. "You looked really warm." Blaine's face heated up as Kurt giggled. But then his face relaxed into a smile. _He had made Kurt laugh._

"Whatever," Kurt said and Blaine could practically see him rolling his eyes. "Go to sleep."

Blaine snuggled inot the crook of Kurt's neck, sighing contentedly. _This was where he was supposed to be._

As he drifted off into peaceful sleep, the last words he heard were, "cuddle whore."

And when he woke up the next morning, he was still smiling.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Ain't No Way is pretty much my favourite song. Love me._

_Disclaimer: ^I don't own it, though. Pssshhhht I wish. Nor Glee, their characters (etc.)_

* * *

><p>The next morning, Blaine was awoken by Kurt pulling out from under his grasp. Somehow in the middle of the night, Blaine had rolled onto his back, pulling Kurt with him. Kurt was using Blaine as a pillow, snuggled tight into his side.<p>

As Kurt pulled himself (and his sheets) away, Blaine immediately missed the warmth.

"Hey!" he cried, reaching out for Kurt longingly.

"Get up!" Kurt cried. "We have to leave in two hours."

Blaine groaned. "Two hours? At least give me the blanket back."

Kurt threw it at him and grabbed his ballet clothes, disappearing into the bathroom. Blaine flopped back onto his pillow with a sigh.

Well, it had been nice while it lasted.

An hour later, Blaine pulled himself out of bed. He showered and dressed in the clothes Kurt had picked out for him (because apparently he had to look presentable too). He dressed in a neat white collared shirt, tucked into plain black pants, with matching black socks, shoes and tie. He felt awfully plain.

But worst of all, Kurt made him _gel his hair _and _wear contacts. _

"And if you put that beanie on I will _die_," Kurt warned him repeatedly.

He was sufficiently put together with half an hour till they had to leave, so he sat down at his portable keyboard that he had brought, running over the piece once more. He still wasn't 100 percent confident in it, which worried him, but he was sure he'd be able to pull through.

Taking a thoughtful sip of his coffee, he eyed Kurt who was sitting cross legged on the couch, checking his phone and eating a celery stick. _Ew._

The poor boy looked so stressed and worried. Blaine wished he knew how to make him feel better…

Well,, what usually made him feel better was coffee. And food. But both of those were out of the question… and if not food, then music.

That's it! Music!

He began to play the opening to a quirky little duet he liked and called kurt over.

"Hey, Kurt," he grinned. "Come sing with me."

Kurt's eyes widened. "I-I don't sing," he stammered.

Blaine raised an eyebrow. "Of course you can! Everyone can! I don't care if you're _bad…_"

Kurt shook his head. "No… you don't understand."

Blaine frowned. "Explain?"

Kurt sighed. "I used to be a singer… ages ago. I was in my school's glee club. I was good. Really good. But then one day I got a throat infection. I had a solo at a competition coming up so I kept it from my team, and kept singing. It got worse, and at the performance…" he took a deep breath, "my voice literally broke. I went and saw a doctor and he told me that the infection had developed into a minor tumor." Blaine's eyes widened in horror. "They got it all out again, but they told me that I'd never be able to sing again."

"Kurt," Blaine said softly. "I'm so sorry…"

"Don't pity me," Kurt scowled. "As you can see, I'm doing just fine. One of my friends from my glee club got me into dancing, and now I see that it's a much more… _rewarding _pursuit. It's my life, and I don't regret anything that happened."

Blaine sighed sadly as Kurt stormed out otno the patio, cigarettes in hand. He felt tears burning in his eyes. Couldn't Kurt see how broken he was? Blaine's heart swelled at the thought of everything he had gone through.

His fingertips flowed through the keys, a pretty and sweet melody that he loved. He gazed at Kurt through the glass and began to sing, hoping to meet his gaze so Kurt would know he was singing to him.

_Ain't no way for me to love you_

_If you won't let me_

_It ain't no way for me to give you all you need_

_If you won't let me give all of me_

Kurt lifted his eyes from his cigarette and gazed out onto the busy streets below. Blaine didn't even know if he'd be able to hear him over the traffic, so he sang louder, letting his emotions soar through the lyrically beautiful tune that he adored so much.

_Stop trying to be someone you're not_

_How cold and cruel is a man _

_Who paid too much for what he got_

_And if you need me to love you_

_Say, say that you do_

_Oh and baby, baby, baby _

_Don't you know that I need you!_

Suddenly Blaine broke off as Kurt turned around with a glare etched on his beautiful face, pulling the glass sliding doors open and slamming them shut behind him.

"It's almost time to leave," he said shortly, not quite meeting his eyes. "You might want to do something about your tie. It's tied on the wrong way."

And he exited to the bathroom without another word.

Sighing, Blaine twisted the shiny black material in the correct fashion. Why was Kurt so intent on running away? He couldn't deny that there was nothing between them. Not anymore.

Last night had changed everything.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Bonus Warblers!_

* * *

><p>When they arrived downstairs, Sue was waiting for them with a cab.<p>

"Good morning, Ms Sylvester," Kurt greeted his teacher fondly.

"Morning, Kurt," she acknowledged him, although she continued to stare at Blaine blankly.

"Is there a problem?" Blaine asked in response to her stare.

"Just trying to decide which insult to use on you first," she said, looking genuinely thoughtful. "I don't know which is more effective, the one about how those shoes make you look like a leprechaun or one of the thousand hair jokes I had in mind."

Kurt laughed, stepping past his coach and slipping into the cab. Blaine followed as Sue gave the cab driver instructions on where to take them.

"I actually like it better this way," Kurt noted, running a hand over Blaine's silky, styled black hair. Blaine fought back a shiver at his gentle touch. He didn't quite know where they stood currently, and was surprised at the gesture, but still resisted leaning in to his touch like he longed to.

Kurt wrenched his hand away quickly when Sue clambered in, slamming the door shut behind her. Kurt studiously avoided Blaine's gaze and Blaine bit his lip sadly.

The rest of the drive continued on in silence (with the exception of Sue yelling occasional obscenities at the 'slower than a turtle curry muncher' taxi driver). Blaine could tell that Kurt was nervous by the way he tightly wrung his hands. Blaine yearned to gently pry his hands away, but feared that Kurt would swat him off.

There was only so much rejection a guy could take.

Thankfully (well, for Blaine) the ride wasn't too long and they arrived at the theatre well on time. Sue checked them in and ushered Kurt to the dressing rooms, sending Blaine off to meet with the other musicians before he even got a chance to say goodbye to Kurt.

There were around twenty other pianists in the waiting room, all dressed similarly to Blaine (i.e. neat black slacks, white collared shirt, black tie etc.). He was glad to overhear a fellow musician ranting about a difficult piece and emitted a sigh of relief that he wasn't the only one in the same boat.

Helping himself to coffee, he slipped into the seat next to the ranting musician.

"There's just all these key changes," the guy was ranting.

"I know how you feel," Blaine sympathized. "Look what I've got…" he showed the guy the paper who quickly scanned the music with wide eyes.

"Damn," he whistled lowly. "I feel for you man… that makes me feel a lot better." He clapped him on the back and grinned, walking off for more coffee leaving Blaine more petrified than ever.

What if he messed up? Sue would probably fire him. He literally couldn't afford to lose this job. If he did it was back to washing down bar counters and sweeping floors. He didn't want to go back to that. His father would bitch about how he would never get a job in the music industry if he couldn't even keep this job… his mom would be disappointed…

And most importantly Kurt would be _destroyed._He had heard that there were company directors at this place who Kurt would be auditioning for at the end of the year. This was his chance to make a good impression, and if Blaine stuffed it up for him…

Well, then all hopes Blaine ever had at a relationship between them pretty much disapperated.

"Don't worry about it," a brunette sitting beside him said kindly. "I'm sure you'll be fine."

"Thanks," Blaine said grimly, hardly believing it.

"I'm Sarah," she introduced herself, extending a neat, perfectly manicured hand that reminded him eerily of Kurt's.

"Blaine," Blaine answered, shaking her hand.

"Who's your dancer?" she asked. "I'm working with Penelope Lovingston from Silverton Academy."

Blaine nodded in recognition. After hearing Sue drone on about the competition endlessly, the names were practically engrained in his mind.

"I've got Kurt Hummel, from the McKinley School," Blaine replied, feeling a flutter in his chest at the mention of Kurt's name.

Fuck, he was so far gone.

"Ah, yes, I know him," Sarah smiled.

Blaine raised an eyebrow at that. _How__do__you__know__him?_He longed to ask. _How__well__did__you__know__him?__Did__you__date?__Did__you__experiment?__Did__you-_

Before he could voice any of his jealous thoughts, one of the judges came in to inform the first pianist that their dancer was up.

It was starting.

About ten minutes later, the air in the music room was tense, so Blaine excused himself to the men's room.

Finally able to breathe, he leant against the cool tiled walls and flicked through his messages on his phone.

_Don't forget it was me who got you that job at McKinley – Thad_

_Are dancer's really as flexible as they say? - David_

_Hey man, get into the dancer's tights yet? ;) – Wes_

He winced at his friend's embarrassing messages. Telling them about sharing a hotel room with Kurt was a bad idea…

Fuck, telling them anything was a bad idea.

_No__you__idiots,_he responded, _nothing__happened._

They replied almost instantly.

_Tonight then? – Thad_

_Well at least now you can give him a good congratulations present tonight ;) – David_

_WHAT. ARE. YOU. WAITING. FOR? – Wes_

He rolled their eyes at their replies and pocketed his phone. He really needed to get better friends.

He was just on his way out when he heard the flush of the toilet and Kurt Hummel himself stepped out of a cubicle, looking decidedly pasty.

"Oh, hi," Kurt said awkwardly, squirting soap onto his hands as he spotted Blaine in the mirror.

"Hi," Blaine replied breathlessly. Even when nervous as can be, Kurt still looked beautiful. "You nervous?" he asked, although he knew the answer. Anything to start a conversation…

"What do you think?" Kurt scowled, running his hands underneath the water and flinching at the cold spray.

_I __bet __I __could __warm __them __for __you... _Blaine thought suggestively, before internally cursing himself. Damn, he spent too much time around those guys…

"Do you think anyone's ever literally died onstage?" Kurt breathed.

Blaine gave him a doting smile. He was just too adorable.

"Relax," Blaine soothed, coming to stand behind him in the mirror and massaging his shoulders gently. _Damn, __he __had __nice __shoulders_… "Kurt. The only people that are going to die this afternoon, are the people in the audience because you are going to _kill _this thing."

Kurt squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm so scared," he whispered.

"Don't be," Blaine said earnestly. "I've watched you do this dance about a thousand times… you're magic, Kurt. I'm blown away every time I've watched you dance and I can't wait to see you again. Those judges aren't going to know what hit them…"

Kurt nodded, looking like he was trying to believe Blaine's words. "I have to go," he said suddenly. "Sue's waiting."

Blaine nodded and reluctantly released his hold on Kurt's shoulders. "Good luck. Not that you need it."

"Thank you," Kurt mouthed, attempting a small smile before slipping out the door.

Blaine sighed and returned to his reflection, realizing how nervous _he _was. Kurt had no cause for nerves…

Blaine on the other hand…


	9. Chapter 9

As the curtain rose Blaine blinked in the bask of the thousands of lights that glittered down on him. He smiled, secretly loving the stage. Soon enough all these people would be here for him.

He just had to get past this performance first. Well… and another three years at college.

But that wasn't the point.

This was Kurt's turn. And he wasn't going to fuck it up for him.

His practiced fingers poured out the melody that he had spent so many nights tirelessly slaving over as Kurt came bouncing out from behind stage.

Literally. His dance was a grande allegro.

"Grande" was a freaking understatement. It was the biggest piece that Blaine had ever played. He refused to even look at Kurt, lest he get distracted, lose his focus and fuck up the whole piece.

He managed to power through, his exertion becoming clear as his face contorted in concentration and a light sweat of combined nerves and effort began to trail down his face, beads glistening at the pours in his fingers…

The piece continued, building and building. It swelled to it's highest peak before coming down in a giant crescendo of scales… the part that Blaine was still not 100 percent confident with…

And then he made the worst mistake of his life.

His finger slipped.

And he lost his place, frantically attempting to improvise so he wouldn't look like a total idiot…

But it was too late. He glanced up to see Kurt, show face still in place, attempting to dance through the music… but it was obvious that he was out of time, his steps in the wrong places.

When the piece finally came to a close the audience applauded politely and Kurt took his bow, still smiling.

Blaine took a neat bow (as he had been instructed to) too and fought off tears. He didn't even deserve their polite applause. He wished he didn't have to go backstage and face Kurt… and Sue.

It was over. He had lost his job.

And most importantly, he had lost Kurt.


	10. Chapter 10

When they left the airport after arriving back in Lima, Sue gave the cab driver instructions to lead them back to the dance studio so they could all go home in their respective cars. The drive was silent, much like everything had been since the competition. Sue had not spoken one syllable to Blaine, not even to insult his outfits.

This was serious.

Kurt's response was even worse. He looked on the edge of tears for the entire trip, staying silent the whole time and refusing to meet anyone's gaze. Blaine's heart broke for the poor boy who's dreams were shattered.

By Blaine. God he was a prat.

When they arrived at McKinley, Sue patted Kurt's shoulder in a gesture more friendly than Blaine knew she had in capacity, before climbing into her SUV and tearing away. Blaine lingered behind slowly, to see whether Kurt would talk to him.

No such luck.

He did however stalk straight into the studios without even so much as a glance at Blaine. However Blaine was stubbornly curious and followed by silently, watching Kurt carefully as he sauntered across the polished floors slowly, his alluring reflection doubled in the mirror lined walls, the setting sun bouncing off every surface it could find, highlighting the beauty of the already gorgeous studio – and it's favourite occupant.

Kurt made his way over to the black grande piano that Blaine had spent so many nights slaving over so incessantly. He slid onto the stool as if he had been there before, his fingers opening the case with a familiar strength. As his beautiful long fingers caressed the keys, it was obvious he had done this before.

"I hate the piano," Kurt said suddenly. Blaine almost jumped in fright, not expecting the eerie silence to be broken so quickly, so clearly, so sharply and surely. The admission of what Kurt had said confused Blaine as it so contradicted the loving embrace with which his fingers flowed across the instrument.

"Why is that?" Blaine asked carefully, scared to make Kurt angry (well, more angry than he assumedly already was), but longing to hear his musical voice more after going so many hours in deprivation of.

"Because it fucked up my life."

Blaine winced. The harsh words didn't match the pretty tone of Kurt's voice. He shouldn't bate his beautiful breath on such obscenities.

"It wasn't the piano that fucked up your life, Kurt," Blaine said slowly. "It-it's a lovely instrument. It was the piece."

"No," Kurt said harshly, slamming his fingers down on the keys with a force that this time, actually made Blaine jump. "_You _fucked up my life. Thanks to you all those long nights, all those years, all that training… washed down the drain because _you _couldn't play a piece of music."

"I'm sorry, Kurt," Blaine said, his eyes filling with hot tears of shame. Because he was completely and utterly ashamed of what he had done to this boy. This boy who was so strong, gone through so much, and came so close to having it all… only to have it snatched away. By him.

"I hate you," Kurt said coldly, his eyes no longer looking close to tears, but hard and even colder than his voice. Blaine flinched, knowing that he meant those words, and more than anything, that he deserved them.

But he didn't stop there.

"I hate the way that the first day and acted like you could do what you want," Kurt continued. "You ran in late, dressed like a fucking clown, and still smiled and laughed it off. I hate that you made everyone love you in just one lesson, and I've being trying for _years. _I hate you because you're in control of your own life. You can go wherever you like, you can do whatever you want, see whoever you want to see. I hate that you can be you and instead of getting taunted every day of your life, people actually _like _you for it."

Kurt closed his eyes now, blocking Blaine off from the pain that was rising to the surface of his diamond stare.

"I hate you because you didn't care that they all liked you. You wanted _me _to like you to. That out of everybody I knew, _you _are the only one who actually cares. The one who wanted me to eat, to stop smoking, to take it easy. Because I've been longing for people to ask me to take care of myself for _years _and _you _were the first person to do it."

Blaine's breath caught at the admission. Kurt heard his little choke and his eyes whipped open. Blaine was shocked at the amount of anger in them, despite the almost melancholy tone in which he spoke. Kurt was hurt, yes. But right now, he was angry. He hated Blaine, and he wasn't going to let Blaine get off this time…

Before Blaine could even process what was happening, Kurt had crossed the space between them and seized Blaine's wrists, spinning them around and pushing him so hard up against the piano that he was sure it would bruise his back tomorrow.

"But more than anything I hate you because you actually make me want to do those things. You make me want to be like a normal person. You make me want to care about you."

Kurt leant closer, so close that Blaine could hear every short little intake of breath he uttered. So close that he could imagine the light thump of his heart beat, perhaps accelerating at the adrenaline coursing through him. He could imagine the little spasms of sound, the muscle tremors as Kurt inched slightly closer, his heel lifting off the ground just a fraction, his elbows twitching with the weight of supporting Blaine.

"Does it feel good, Kurt?" Blaine asked, his voice so low he wondered if it was really his own. "Does it feel good to admit the truth, finally. The truths that you've kept bottled up for so long. All that pent up emotion… finally free?"

"You have no idea," Kurt said slowly, through gritted teeth.

Blaine let out a breathy chuckle, his warm breath ghosting across Kurt's bare collarbone that drifted dangerously close to kissing distance. Blaine felt a shiver run through Kurt and he met his searing gaze.

"Well then," Blaine returned darkly. "Why don't I tell you how I feel?"

He didn't wait for an invitation before moving suddenly, turning them around so he now hovered over Kurt, who was backed up against the instrument he knew so well, one knee pressed up against the side of Kurt's toned, yet sadly covered, thigh, his other leg supporting his weight as he shifted his body against Kurt's.

He leaned closer, his lips hovering by Kurt's ears, attentive for Blaine's next words. "I hate you, Kurt Hummel. I hate the way you're mean. You're so mean. You're amazingly talented, but you know it. You rub it in other people's faces. You know that I'm staring at you all lesson. The way you move your hips in perfect time to my music." Blaine let out another throaty chuckle. Not because he found it amusing, but simply because he rather enjoyed the tingling sensation that Kurt's shivers sent coursing through their combined body heat.

"It's _infuriating._"

Blaine punctuated his statement by flicking out his (admittedly agile) tongue and tapping it against Kurt's ear. Kurt elicited a short gasp that sent Blaine's blood ablaze, the fiery want inside him building.

"_You're_ infuriating," Kurt choked as Blaine pressed his body against Kurt's, so that their hips were flush together and Kurt could feel just how good it felt for Blaine to get his all off his chest.

"Say that again?" Blaine whispered, his voice hot ans gravelly against Kurt's blazing skin.

Rather than attempting speech, Kurt closed the gap between them, sealing their lips together in a kiss full of pent up emotion, tension and actual anger.

Kurt's lips were nothing like he imagined. And yes, he had spent many nights lying awake, staring at the celing, running a warm hand down his chest (and further), imagining sweet boy kisses peppering down his heated skin, the press of his lips soft and lighter than air.

No. His kisses were deep and lush and wet and warm, his lips so plush that Blaine felt himself melting into his touch. He pushed himself harder against Kurt, wanting more, more of his hot, beautiful touch.

Trembling fingertips fumbled against buttons and their shirts were tossed on the floor, forgotten in the heat as lips pressed against skin, gasps echoing off the walls.

"I forgot how nice the acoustics were here," Blaine murmured as Kurt's moan reverberated off the mirrors.

Kurt scowled up at him. "Fuck you," he hissed, latching his teeth onto Blaine's collarbone, making him cry out in a twisted mix of pain and pleasure.

"S-so hot, Kurt," Blaine panted as Kurt sucked the skin, surely leaving a dark purple bruise behind. A lasting reminder that this was not another one of the many fantasies Blaine had let himself indulge in over the passed few months. But not even any of those could live up to this.

Blaine felt a sharp pain against his back as Kurt pushed him harder against the case, until he felt Kurt lifting him up, making him sit upright on top of the case. Holy fuck Kurt was strong. Taking full advantage of his position, Blaine instantly threaded his fingers through Kurt's hair, reveling in it's silkiness, and wrapping his legs tight around Kurt's middle. Pulling him closer and closer…

"Jesus, Blaine!" Kurt cried as Blaine tugged experimentally on his hair. Blaine couldn't help the smirk that crossed his lips, but Kurt quickly wiped it away, pulling him down, their lips crashing together in a kiss that was way all teeth and tongue and left Blaine moaning into his mouth with want.

Kurt lowered him against the piano so he was now straddling Blaine. His eyes locked onto Blaine's and Blaine just barely had time to register the stormy green that they had become before Kurt rolled his hips down against his, pushing all coherent thoughts out of his mind.

"Kurt!" Blaine gasped, his heart hammering wildly against his chest. He was already painfully hard and he could feel that Kurt was too. As Kurt ground down a second time, Blaine's hands flailed wildly for a moment before gripping his hips tightly, hard enough to leave angry bruises.

Blaine closed his eyes, throwing his head back with pleasure as Kurt began to rock steadily against him. Without his sight his other senses were heightened and he felt that he might come just from the delicious sounds that Kurt was emitting.

He could feel himself coming closer to the edge and when Kurt cried out his name, his eyes flew open to shoot a glance at the beautiful boy writhing above him. His cheeks were flushed, eyes watery and hair mussed, but it was his bruised lips, swelled with the passion that Blaine had had the honour of bestowing, that made him come so hard that he thought he might faint.

Kurt followed soon after, collapsing on top of him with a shuddering tremor. Blaine longed to pull his arms around him, pull him into a warm embrace and snuggle him tight for days, kissing his hair softly and murmuring the "I love you" that had been on the top of his tongue since that very first Friday night class.

"Kurt," Blaine murmured softly. It was a question. He didn't know what he was asking. Was he asking him to declare his feelings? To let him hold him? To let him love him?

Blaine didn't know if Kurt knew what he was asking either, but his answer was no less painful.

"I-I can't," he whispered, not even looking Blaine in the eye as he frantically slipped off the piano, clunking on the ivory keys in his haste. The sharp clang of all the wrong keys smashed together was enough to break the spell. Reality hit Blaine fast and hard, colder than the withering glances Kurt was so famous for.

Blaine wanted to cry, but he felt like someone had ripped out his tear ducts, along with his heart, entire chest and maybe just all of his fucking vital organs. His breath came out in shuddering gasps, and his whole body racked with the force.

_It was over. _

* * *

><p><em>AN: I'd just like to point out that this is my first smut attempt in a fic. Sorry if it was too tame or whatever... I wasn't really happy with it myself._


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: For those of you asking, the competition was held in front of an audience of important company directors and there was a big chance Kurt was going to get an offer for his performnce. But they stuffed up so... chance gone. _

_Also, it's rather amusing to see how divided you all are. I couldn't tell who you were more mad at; Kurt or Blaine..._

_Disclaimer: I don't own Last Friday Night by Katy Perry. _

* * *

><p>Blaine left almost immediately. He couldn't stay in there any longer.<p>

His mind felt blank as he drove home. He tried to the memory out of his mind and think of something else. He turned on the radio, flicking to his favorite station.

_Last Friday night_

_We danced on tabletops_

_Took too many shots_

_Think we made out but I forgot_

_Last Friday-_

Blaine shut off the radio angrily. Stupid Katy Perry. He had sung Katy Perry to Kurt. God dammit.

He spent the rest of the ride home in silence, pulling into the garage of his small cramped apartment with an air of relief. When he got inside, he threw his jacket and keys on the table, dumping his bags at the door, rushing to the bathroom.

Standing at the sink he leant over and examined himself in the mirror, flinching at his reflection. He was a _wreck._

His eyes were wide and far too bright. His hair had come out of it's gelled state and was mussed around his slightly paled face. His lips were still bruised and his cheeks flushed. He shrugged off his shirt, gasping at the trail of bruises that covered his skin along his collarbone. God… Kurt hadn't held back…

He swallowed the lump in his throat, discarded the rest of his clothes and hopped into the shower. He turned the hot water on to boiling, lathering soap all over him, hoping to wash away the sick feeling that threatened to overwhelm him. He felt dirty… unclean…

What had happened between him and Kurt was wrong. Kurt didn't love him, and he couldn't have been entirely oblivious to Blaine's feelings for him. He had been embarrassingly obvious…

He reached for the bar of soap once more, opening his mouth for his customary nightly shower solo – the one time of the day when he was actually a star. So what if it was in his own bathroom?

But as he opened his mouth to belt out the latest Britney Spears tune, his breath halted. He frowned darkly. For once, he just didn't feel like singing.

Throwing the bar of soap against the wall in frustration, Blaine turned off the water, clambering out of the shower and into his oldest, most comfortable pair of pyjamas. He reached for his toothbrush but hesitated. He could still feel Kurt on his lips, the taste of him embedded in his tongue.

He left the toothbrush in the stand, heading back to his bedroom where he turned the light off and flopped on the bed unceremoniously. He felt like a fool, but some part of him just wanted to hold on to what had happened. It would be the only time Kurt would ever let him that close to him, so is it such a bad thing that Blaine wanted to preserve that?

_Yes_, the sensible part of him reasoned. He pulled a pillow over himself and pushed that thought of his mind, closing his eyes and willing sleep to come soon.

* * *

><p>The next evening when Blaine arrived at the studio it was gulping down one of the many cups of coffee he had had that day. He had received limited sleep last night, his sparkly eyed tormenter haunting his dreams and preventing him from getting any decent rest.<p>

He had dressed in one of his favourite outfits, hoping that just maybe if Sue would be able to find enough entertainment in mocking him, she might find him too fun to fire.

Unlikely, but he had to hope. He _needed _this job.

The idea of going to the Advanced 2 class that night was terrifying but Blaine knew that he had to face the music (terrible pun intended). He arrived at the studio ten minutes early and pulled into the crowded driveway, parking with practiced precision. His eyes instantly scanned the lot for Kurt's familiar black Navigator.

He didn't see it.

_Probably didn't want to see me, _Blaine thought sadly as he entered the studio. His eyes scanned the room hopefully. _Maybe he grabbed a lift with Rachel or Brittany..? _But those girls were absent also. In fact, Quinn and Santana were missing too.

_Where is everybody? _He wondered.

He took usual place at the piano, his mind whirling with the memories of yesterday. How his bare skin had felt against the cool case… the sound of Kurt crying out his name as he-

No. He couldn't do that to himself.

He shook his head to try and remove those thoughts, beginning to shift through his sheet music to find the syllabus pieces. As he drew out the correct folder he heard the voice of Nina, one of the younger girls in class, voicing his earlier concerns.

"Where is everybody?"

Her friend Samantha had a smirk on her face as she replied, "Well we all know where Kurt is…"

It seemed all ears, including Blaine's, turned to Samantha at her words. She sneered as she turned back to her friend.

"He's too embarrassed after completely fucking up his dance in front of some of the best company directors in the world," she said coldly. "I bet he won't came back at all-"

"He will," Blaine interrupted loudly, his gaze darkening with fierce anger. The whole class turned to him with wide, shocked eyes but he ignored them, concentrating his hard stare on that little _bitch _who had just spoken. _How dare she say that about Kurt? _"Because even when he fucks up, he's still a thousand times better than you'll ever be, Samantha. I think the senior citizens salsa class called. They want their moves back."

He didn't know what prompted him to make the dig, but as Samantha's face flushed a deep red and the rest of the class burst into laughter he couldn't help his triumphant grin. Finally he had done something right for Kurt.

"Anderson!"

His smile fell short at the call of Sue Sylvester. He turned to her, bracing himself for unemployment. The class fell silent as she beckoned him over. He bounced over, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste.

"Yes, Ms. Sylvester," he said quickly, holding himself high. At least if he got fired he'd take it with dignity. He'd _try _not to fall on his hands and knees and grovel for his job back…

And to his surprise… she smiled.

"I like what you just did there," she said heartily. "I didn't think you had it in you. But if you hadn't of said something, I would have. Kurt's been through far too much to tolerate petty comments from mediocre performers such as Samantha King."

Blaine nodded, hardly believing his ears. It almost sounded like… Sue cared…

"Well, hobbit," she clapped his back in an unnervingly comrade like way, "I must say your crush on young porcelain is blaringly obvious and since your little stint at the competition, I dare say he's not exactly longing for your amore."

Blaine winced. That was one way to put it…

"So I'm offering you a chance to get into his obscenely tight pants and heart that is almost as rock hard cold as mine."

Blinking back his surprise, Blaine stared up at her in awe.

"But-how? Why…?" he faltered. Sue held up a hand.

"Never mind the logistics," Sue said. "Tonight is the McKinley High School Prom. Young Kurt is going with a group of friends. Tonight you show up, dress in that dapper fashion he seems to be so fond of for some reason even though it truly makes you look like you were born in the wrong century, and sweep that majestic dancing nymph off his feet. Or I fire you."

Blaine was speechless. He stareed at her for a beat before clearing his head. _This is your chance, Blaine._

"Thanks, Ms. Sylvester," Blaine grinned, dashing for the door. He had a prom to crash!

"Hobbit!"

Blaine turned as he reached the door to face Sue who was still wearing that uncharacteristic smile.

"Good luck."


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: Love me? _

_Also I have this notion that Kurt smells like daisies that pops up in all my fics. This has nothing to do with the fact that I wear Daisy perfume..._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Thank You For the Music, by ABBA (but I am a huuuuuuge ABBA fan, just file under: 100 random facts about Poppy)_

* * *

><p><em>Holy fuck, <em>Blaine thought as he pushed through the standardised double doors leading into the gaudily decorated McKinley High School gymnasium, _what is this colourful wonderland?_

Blaine smiled giddily at the pretty decorations, fiddling with the crepe paper that dangled from the ceiling. He could practically hear Kurt's voice: "they're tacky and don't match the rest of the décor," he might say. Blaine would nudge his shoulder playfully in return, insisting, "_I _think they're adorable."

_Just like you._

A catchy Rebecca Black tune poured over the speakers as he strode through the whirling mass of bright coloured dresses, snazzy tuxes, bopping balloons and endless streamers. Blaine grinned as he caught sight of a group of guys performing the song onstage, thinking back to his own days in high school when he was the lead singer of his show choir.

His eyes moved quickly around the crowd, desperately seeking out Kurt's glasz eyes. He had forgotten how big the attendance at prom was and was only met with unfamiliar faces, much to his dismay.

Finally he located a familiar face, rushing to the side of the girl with the sad lack of turnout (thanks to Sue, the only way he could identify the students was by whatever insult she plagued them with most frequently). He distantly recalled a glimmer of a name… _Quinn. _That was it.

He paced over to the middle of the floor, where the girl was currently dancing with a tall (like, really tall), slightly oafish looking boy who was vaguely familiar.

"Hi, Quinn!" he shouted over the music, tapping her on the shoulder. She let go of her partner, turning towards Blaine with an air of surprise.

"Blaine," she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" She looked him up and down with a smirk. "Well, don't you look dapper?"

"Thanks," Blaine beamed proudly. He hadn't had much time to put thought into an outfit, pulling out the only suit he owned (a classic black tux) and gelling his hair neatly. He had donned his contacts for the occasion and opted for his favourite pink bowtie. He had absently grabbed a pink flower to match his tie, from one of the bushes outside his apartment building, pulling out another one on second thought (just in case Kurt wanted it…). "Do you think Kurt will approve?" he asked hopefully.

Quinn laughed sunnily. "You are so far gone," she giggled. Blaine blushed.

"What was that about Kurt?" the tall boy asked gruffly, giving Blaine a strange look.

Blaine felt a brief flicker of recognition.

* * *

><p><em>Daisies, Blaine thought absently as he ran his fingers gently across the piano keys. Kurt smells like daisies. He smiled as the scent wafted through the studio doors, making his heart stammer excitedly. Kurt was here.<em>

_Sneaking a glance over the piano case where he was scribbling in annotations for one of the syllabus pieces, he spotted Kurt being escorted in by a tall brunette. Jealousy stabbed through him at the sight of his arm resting easily around his shoulders._

_Blaine's eyes crept regretfully back to his music, fiddling with his inky pen as Sue strode into the studio._

"_Porcelain, Frankenteen," she greeted the boys in a familiar tone. Blaine's eyes snuck back up. She knew Kurt's boyfriend? "I've been expecting you."_

"_Good to see you, coach," the tall boy replied, looking rather frightened of the intimidating woman._

_As he should be._

"_Wish I could say the same Frankenteen," Sue returned easily. "You see, hobbit two and Legolas over here haven't stopped snarking about you for the past month. It's ruining my practices. Choose your wench and get out."_

"_Wait," 'Frankenteen' said, sounding confused. Kurt rolled his eyes beside him. "If… Rachel is hobbit two… who's hobbit two?"_

"_Seriously, Finn," Kurt interjected, sounding torn between amusement and disgust, "that's all you got out of all of that?"_

"_Hobbit one," Sue said imperiously, pointing to Blaine who was still spying by the piano. "Eyebrows."_

_Finn gave him a broad smile, and waved. Blaine winced a little and waved back hesitantly, hoping dearly that 'Eyebrows' wouldn't catch on._

* * *

><p>"Hi, Finn," Blaine greeted him warily, recalling Mercedes filling him in later that evening. Finn was Kurt's step brother and had dated both Quinn and Rachel, often getting caught between them.<p>

"Hey… Eyebrows," Finn returned in a tone that Blaine suspected was supposed to sound threatening, but was about as intimidating as Elmo. "So what do you want with Kurt?"

"Shut up, Finn," Quinn snapped, turning her attention back to Blaine. "Where you looking for him?"

Blaine nodded. "Have you seen him?"

Quinn smiled apologetically. "Sorry, I haven't. I'll keep an eye out, though."

"Thanks," Blaine grinned. Quinn nodded and grabbed Finn again, making him dance with her.

Blaine continued his search through the crowd, sighing at his futile attempt. Kurt could be _anywhere…_

* * *

><p>"Come on, Kurt," Rachel whined, "I want to <em>dance <em>with you…"

"Please, boo," Mercedes pushed. "You can't be depressed forever."

"It was only one dance competition," Sam offered kindly. "There will be plenty more."

Kurt sighed. They didn't understand. They didn't know the least of it.

"I'm sorry, guys," he apologised sincerely. "I just… I'm not really in the prom sort of mood."

"How can you not be in a prom mood," Rachel deadpanned. "It _is _prom."

Kurt sighed, not meeting any of their concerned stares, flickering his eyes up to the balloon dusted ceiling that made him feel slightly nauseous.

"I'm just tired, guys," he muttered half-heartedly, although this was the most truth he had told this evening. He was tired. So tired. He hadn't been getting any sleep lately and felt slightly light headed.

"Kurt, please," Mercedes said softly, "we're worried about you. Just let us help."

Kurt closed his eyes. He couldn't listen to this. Not now.

"I need the bathroom," he mumbled, stalking off. He knew the girls would make Sam follow him there (or maybe he would even follow of his own accord), so he didn't go there. He went straight out of the auditorium, straight into the cool, starry night.

The breeze brushed gently across his face as he strolled through the grass. He heard a classic old ABBA song playing in the distance as he climbed the steps out the back of the school. The cement clicked under his dress shoes as he paced upwards. Reaching the top he paused and leant against the metal fencing as another wave of tiredness washed over him.

The song was fleetingly familiar to him, like a song that he knew once before but hadn't heard in years. But of course, he recalled all the lyrics.

_Mother says I was a dancer before I could walk_

_She says I began to sing long before I could talk_

Oh, of course.

When Kurt had been a little boy, his mother used to play records around the house as she did the chores. Kurt used to prattle around after her, humming along to her beautiful singing. He had gotten all his musical talents from her.

She had been amazing.

_But I often wonder how did it all start?_

_Who found out that nothing could capture our heart like a melody can?_

_Well, whoever it was, I'm a fan_

Her voice had always filled him with an inexplicable warmth. Her voice… so soothing… so…lovely.

But when she died, that magic left him. He hadn't heard anyone with a voice like that ever.

Until he met Blaine.

_So I say thank you for the music_

_The songs I'm singing_

_Thanks for all the joy they're bringing_

_Who can live without it?_

_I ask in all honesty what would life be?_

_Without a song or a dance, what are we?_

As the night air breathed over him, he felt himself growing wearier. He heard footsteps approaching in the distance, but his eyes were too tired to open. He was too tired to fight sleep. So tired. So tired of fighting.

He heard a gruff voice utter his last name, but he was too far gone to care.

The last thing he heard before descending into darkness was a voice crooning an old tune in his ear, their voice like honey.

_So I say thank you for the music_

_For giving it to me_


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: First of all, apologies for the last chapter. I apparently don't know how to write without leaving a cliffhanger at the end of every chapter. -sigh-._

_Secondly, this I feel that I should warn you that this is the second last chapter for the story. The last chapter has nearly been written but I'm quite a bit unsure with it so I have to get someone to read over it and I'm in the process of working on another AU (hahahahah) so it probably won't be up for at least a few days -sadface-. In the meantime you should all check out my lovely Violet's fic "Of Persperation and Gun Powder". Ugh, I just love everything she does..._

_Disclaimer: Yes, I use another ABBA song here. I fucking adore that band. Don't mind me... So no, I do not own Dancing Queen (although the altered lyrics are all mine...shhh I shouldn't admit to that -embarassment-). Also, there's a quote in there from Vladmir Nabakov so uhhmmm obviously I do not own that (ONE DAY I WILL BE ABLE TO WRITE LIKE THAT). It's my favourite quote of all time - fun fact..._

__Just fyi, I have a tumblr account "tall blonde abercrombie over there" (no spaces) where I post more fic. Also, more fic over at my LJ "dreams_and_oj" but it's usually posted under the Kurt_Blaine community or CrissColfer.__

* * *

><p>The hospital room was bright and cheery, rather in contrast with the dark tremors of Blaine's tired heart. The small space was illuminated with the fluorescent lighting that shone from the impossibly white ceiling. The ward was quiet and calm, the hour too late for visitors.<p>

But they hadn't been able to make him leave.

Blaine had spent the past two torturous days at Kurt's bedside, refusing to leave for anything and everything. They had been pretty good about it, really. Burt had kept his interrogation under wraps and Carole had been bringing him coffee and sandwiches. Finn had even brought him his guitar.

"Kurt loves music," he had informed him.

But Sue had been the best. She had (cough) _talked _with the doctors who had tried to make Blaine leave.

Needless to say, they hadn't bothered him since.

All the while Kurt slept on while Blaine couldn't. during the day he talked to him. He told him about his life, his own experience with bullying; he told him about his dreams, about how he had taken up the job at Sue's studio to pay the bills his parent's now refused to and how he was saving to move to New York next year.

He told him about his fears, how he didn't know if he could make it, how he didn't know a single person in New York and had to make his own living now.

How he was scared for Kurt. How scared he had been Friday night when he pulled that meathead (who Finn had later told him was named Karofsky) off him and broke his jaw. How scared he was that Kurt wouldn't wake up and if he did whether he'd still hate him.

How he was scared that he'd never get the chance to tell him he loved him.

But during the night he read. Sometimes during the day he read aloud to Kurt, his favourite passages from his favourite books. Stacked high beside his chair were his old novels, his favourite authors scrawled across the spine; _Austen, Dickens, Alcott, Bronte, Nabakov…_

It wasn't until Sunday morning that he picked up Finn's guitar. The purple horizon warned him the sun was coming, not fast enough. His eyes were burning from lack of sleep, but he daren't close them. He didn't want to miss a single breath… he didn't want to risk the chance of not being there when he woke up.

I wasn't there once before, he told himself solemnly.

Never again.

The tell-tale click of the receptionist with her morning coffee and the steady patter of canvas shoes informed him that the hospital staff were already up, bustling around and ready for the day ahead. Without even thinking about it, he reached for the wooden instrument that lay beside his stack of books. His fingers idly strummed across the strings as he pluck a familiar cord, softy crooning out the first tune that came to mind as he eyed the beautiful boy laying almost peacefully across from him.

_You can dance, you can jive_

_Having the time of your life_

_Ohh see that boy, watch that scene_

_He is the dancing king…_

Blaine's voice came out a little rusty from disuse. He paused for a moment, clearing his throat and getting off his chair to perch on the end of Kurt's bed instead. He had fallen unconscious with his face etched in fear, his mouth frowning, even in his deep sleep. Blaine ran an absent finger across his lips, sighing to himself before picking up the guitar again.

_Sunday morning and the lights are low _he sang, chuckling a little at his own joke

_Not looking out for a place to go_

_Where they play the right music, getting in the swing_

_I've already found my king_

He rolled his eyes at himself, knowing he was being ridiculous, but too sleep deprived to even care.

_They said anybody could be that guy_

_Morning is young and the only music is mine_

_Kurt says I play really bad music_

_He doesn't get in the swing_

_He doesn't know he's my king_

_And if I get a chance…_

Strumming loudly without care, almost as if he hoped his music would be enough to rouse Kurt from his seemingly endless sleep, Blaine sang wildly his altered chorus.

_Dancing king, young and sweet only eighteen_

_Dancing king, feel that beat on the tambourine, oh yeah_

_You can dance, you can jive_

_Having the time of your life_

_Ooh see that boy_

_Watch that scene_

_Digging the dancing king!_

Blaine glanced down at Kurt again, his eyes wide as he regarded his expression. A jolt of renewed hope flooded through him.

Kurt's mouth had lifted, just a fraction, so his face had panned out peacefully.

Blaine cast the guitar aside instantly and grabbed Kurt's hands in his own. He continued to sing, his eyes shining with a new desperation and hope.

_Please, _his mind begged, _please just wake up._

_You're a teaser you turn them on_

He smiled a little to himself. _You turn _me _on, more like it, _his mind supplied.

_Leave them burning and then you're gone_

_Looking out for another, anyone will do_

_You're in the mood for a dance_

_And when you get the chance_

Clutching at Kurt's hands tightly, his eyes shined with unshed tears as he poured his heart into the lyrics. He just _needed _Kurt to hear him.

_You are the dancing queen_

_Young and sweet, only seventeen_

_Dancing queen, feel the beat of the tambourine, oh yeah_

_You can dance, you can jive_

_Having the time of your life_

_Ohh see that girl, watch that scene-_

Blaine cut off mid-lyric, his breath catching in his throat as Kurt's hand shifted in his. His eyelashes began to flutter and Blaine felt himself beginning to shake.

"Nurse!" he shouted loudly. "He's waking up!"

* * *

><p>He let them have their time. He let the nurses fawn over Kurt, the doctors check him over, Burt hold back his tears and Carole cry openly over him. He let Finn shake his hand and aplogise for not being there, he let Carole hold him tight and let Sue inform him that she had scored him a late entry audition at Julliard. He watched them smile and cry and hug…<p>

He never left.

No one mentioned it, but for the rest of the day he was still there, hovering in the back, pouring over his favourite Nabakov novel. It wasn't until Carole was off fetching everyone coffee that she noticed he was still there.

"Can I get you anything, honey?" she asked kindly, her voice bestowing the same motherly gentleness his own mother sadly lacked.

Blaine nodded gratefully. "Coffee would be amazing, thanks."

As she dashed off, he caught Kurt's eye. He was staring at him with an expression of pure surprise at his face. But then Finn caught him up in conversation, and their gaze broke. Sighing, Blaine turned back to his novel.

He had waited a while. He could wait a little bit longer.

* * *

><p>"You stayed."<p>

A while later (a long while later), Kurt had finally conceded that he was tired and felt like sleeping. Of course his family (with the exception of maybe Finn), weren't stupid and all cast Blaine knowing glances as they retreated.

"Stuff this up and I will go all Lord Sauron on your hobbit ass," Sue muttered as she stalked past.

Blaine looked up in answer to Kurt's question, smiling a little as he marked his page and moved towards Kurt.

"Of course I did," he said quietly, taking the same seat beside Kurt's bed that he had spent the past few days in.

Kurt's eyes softened, his expression disbelieving as he shook his head. "I don't understand…" he whispered.

"Well, actually neither do I," Blaine said, his voice coming out a little colder than expected. Kurt looked taken aback. "How long has this been going on, Kurt?"

"What been going on?" Kurt asked, confused.

"Karofsky," Blaine growled.

Kurt was silent for a moment, his eyes flickering around the room, avoiding Blaine's as he tried to think up a response.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Blaine said, his voice more gentle than before. "Why didn't you tell anybody? Your dad and Carole didn't even know who he was!"

"My dad has enough to worry about-" Kurt tried.

"It's his _job _to worry about you, Kurt," Blaine stressed.

"It's his job to be my dad," Kurt contradicted darkly. "He can't do that if he's dead from a heart attack."

Blaine sighed. "It's not just your dad… what about Carole? Finn? Your friends?"

"They get bullied too," Kurt protested.

"But not as bad," Blaine guessed.

Kurt sighed. "No," he conceded. "Not as bad…"

Shaking his head sadly, Blaine edged his chair closer, leaning forward and capturing Kurt's wide eyed blue gaze in his own.

"Then why," he said sternly, "didn't you at least tell me?"

Silence fell over them like a spell, thick and tangible. Their shared breaths echoed above the steady hum of the heart monitor beside Kurt's bed.

"Because," Kurt uttered, his voice cracking, "I didn't know you were an option."

Blaine let out a breathy, disbelieving laugh. "Kurt," he said, his voice a lot steadier than he expected it to be. Of course he didn't exactly expect his confession to happen on a _hospital bed _because of _this._

Almost laughing at the situation, Blaine reached for his abandoned novel for help. "Have you ever read Nabakov, Kurt?" Blaine asked.

Kurt shook his head mutely.

Blaine found the page he had first annotated, smiling at his messy musician's scribble. "I could not kill her of course," he read, "as some have thought. You see, I loved her," he looked up at Kurt's short intake of breath. They locked eyes and Blaine took a deep breath, reaching across and encasing Kurt's hands in his own. "It was love at first sight, at last sight, at ever and ever sight."

Kurt seemed stunned speechless, his breaths short and quick. Blaine took this as a cue to keep speaking.

"You see," he breathed. "I love you, Kurt Hummel. I always have, and I can't even look at anyone else without thinking of you. You're… you're perfect, Kurt. I've said it once and I'll say it again. You're magic."

Shaking his head, his incredible eyes shining, Kurt leaned forward. "How are you real?"

Blaine didn't even have time to catch his breath before Kurt closed the distance, capturing his lips in a heart stuttering kiss. He felt his brain spin, his heart sing and his hands made way to caress Kurt's cheek on autopilot, desperate to bring him closer, to kiss him more, to _love him _more.

When they pulled back, Blaine leant his forehead against Kurt's, his heart stuttering wildly and his mind whirling uncontrollably.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Kurt whispered suddenly, his diamond eyes twinkling mischievously.

"You can tell me anything," Blaine said seriously, hoping he'd take the double meaning.

Kurt leant closer, his lips tingling against his ear lobe.

"I'm in love with you, too."


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: There's so much to say and yet I can't say anything at all. So I guess I'll manage a thank you, with a magnitude of gratitude behind it. I write for me, but seeing all your kind words kind of makes my heart melt. You make all the effort worth it._

_This is sort of one of my favourite things I've written. I wouldn't say it's the best, but it's certainly been one of the most enjoyable processes. I hope you've all had just as much fun reading as I have writing. _

_This last chapter is structured in the style of ten drabbles/short stories telling the tale of their next year together. I just had so much headcanon for them and wanted resolution on a few things, so I hope my intentions carry through._

_Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, the characters associated or the songs used in this chapter (Belief, Gavin Degraw, You and I, Lady Gaga, Chiquitita, I Do I Do I Do I Do I Do, both by ABBA, of course)._

_~A special shout-out to my lovely Brittany (purestblood) who was my beta for this chapter. She's magical. I love her._

* * *

><p><strong>1~<strong>

Kurt's bare feet caught on the floor of the studio, holding him in a perfect arabesque. Across the hall, his boyfriend sat at his piano with his legs crossed on the stool, his face mapped out in utter adoration.

"I could watch you forever, you know?" he said lightly, sincerity tracing his tone as Kurt turned to him for approval.

Kurt smiled and skipped across the room, planting a sweet kiss on his forehead. "You're cute," he said, making Blaine blush. "But…" Kurt added with a sigh, taking centre stage once more, "sadly you're not the one who's going to give me entry into Julliard…"

Blaine rolled his eyes dotefully, cupping his chin on the piano case, leaning forward. "Can't we just go make out instead?"

Kurt shook his head firmly. "Play it again, Blaine."

* * *

><p><strong>2~<strong>

Graduation cap and robe impeccably in place, Kurt strolled across the stage to receive his diploma. He shook hands formally with the principal and waved at his family who were being adorably embarrassing, on their feet with applause. His heart swelled at the sight of Blaine sitting next to his brother, cheering louder than them all put together.

"That's my boyfriend!" Blaine was cheering above the crowd, ignoring the odd looks he received.

"And my brother, too!" Finn added uselessly.

"I love you," Kurt mouthed back at them, but his eyes never left Blaine's.

* * *

><p><strong>3~<strong>

The sun stained grass was hot against his legs and probably staining his jeans, but Kurt had to sit down, his legs unable to support him. He blinked rapidly, trying to contain the tears that threatened the surface.

Once he regained himself (an embarrassingly long time later), his trembling fingers let go of the envelope to reach for his phone and flew across the key pad as he texted everyone he knew.

I made it. I got into Julliard.

* * *

><p><strong>4~<strong>

The studio was filled with the scent of sweat, sex and cigarettes as Kurt perched himself on the black case, blowing smoke rings for his own amusement.

Beside him, his boyfriend grimaced, shifting off the piano.

"What?" Kurt said defensively. "I already told you why I do it…"

"I don't have to like it," Blaine snapped, pulling his shirt back on.

Kurt's expression fell. "Blaine… Blaine, please."

Blaine sighed and dropped to the piano stool, his expression sad. "I just want to help you get better, Kurt."

"There's nothing-"

"Kurt."

The silence between them was tense, their heated stare unwavering.

Blaine was the first to speak. "It's not just the smoking," he said helplessly. "You know last night after you left Pav wouldn't eat his dinner."

"Maybe he wasn't hungry?" Kurt suggested lightly.

"Kurt, don't be stupid," Blaine uttered softly, his eyes dark. "When I left for the bathroom you hadn't touched your dinner but when I got back it was all gone."

"I was hungry."

"I bet you were."

More silence.

"Kurt," Blaine tried, running a tired hand through his hair. "You can't keep doing this…"

Kurt's expression was impassive for a moment before his lower lip began to tremble, the rest of his face following suit as he broke down.

Blaine was at his side in an instant, holding his shaking frame warmly against his chest.

"Shhh," Blaine whispered soothingly. "I've got you baby, I've got you."

Blaine held his arms tightly around Kurt, trying to hold him together as the tears gushed fiercely down his cheeks. He clutched at Blaine's arms, trying not to break in half with the force of his wrecked sobs, threatening to consume him.

"I believe in you, Kurt," Blaine intoned quietly, his breath soft and sweet against the shell of his ear. "We can get through this… but you need to let me help you."

Kurt clenched his eyes shut, trying to make sense of the thoughts frantically spinning a mess in his addled mind.

"For me, Kurt," Blaine whispered gently, "for us. For our future. Please… you can do this."

"I-I," Kurt tried to keep his voice from breaking, but it came out in a violent stutter anyway. "I w-want to try, Blaine."

"I'll be there," Blaine assured him, holding back tears of his own. "Every step of the way… I love you, Kurt. And I believe in you."

Closing his eyes with a sigh, Kurt leant back against Blaine's chest, his sobs reduced to silent tears.

"We can do this," Blaine intoned firmly, exhaling with relief at the feel of Kurt's slight nod against his chest, and then the light whisper of his agreeance.

"_We can do this…"_

* * *

><p><strong>5~<strong>

The day folded under too many numbers and endless accounts. Blaine had literally buried himself in the papers and Kurt eyed him with a fond smile, brushing them aside so he could get a better look at him.

"I knew there was a reason I said no to grad school," Blaine mumbled tiredly as Kurt took the calculator carefully from his hands, clasping on the lid.

"Well?" Kurt asked pointedly, his eyes expectant as they examined him.

An easy grin slipped onto Blaine's face.

"I got the transfer scripts today… and the accounts are all in order…"

Kurt let out an excited squeal, wrapping his arms around him.

"I can't believe this…" he gasped happily. "We're-we're finally doing this."

Blaine nodded, smiling into Kurt's hair. "It's finally happening…"

* * *

><p><strong>6~<strong>

The smell of fried chicken wafted through the cramped apartment. Blaine dragged up a box to where Kurt was sitting on their fluffy brown couch (the only thing they had so far unpacked), his legs folded under him. Blaine pecked his cheek as he dumped the packet down on the box to use as a makeshift table. Kurt wrinkled his nose as he pulled out a packet of salty chips.

"I'm not eating that," Kurt announced.

Blaine gave him a pointed look and pulled a serviette out of the packet. Kurt watched with raised eyebrows as Blaine took extra care in wiping most of the salt and oil off a single chip he had picked out. He then raised it and traced Kurt's lip with his other thumb. Under the intensity of Blaine's stare, he sighed, finally complying and opening his mouth. Grinning at his success, Blaine popped the chip in and planted a quick kiss on his lips, sealing them closed.

Kurt chewed slowly, watching as Blaine took a few chips for himself, not bothering to clean them before eating. Finally, he swallowed and smiled.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Blaine pointed out. Kurt smiled at him and linked their fingers together.

"No," Kurt admitted after a moment, "it wasn't."

"Well what better way to celebrate our first night in New York," Blaine grinned, "than with crappy McDonalds?"

"I can think of a better way…" Kurt said, his voice low as he trailed his hand that was not linked to Blaine's, across Blaine's denim clad thigh, smirking as he felt a shudder ripple through him.

Blaine looked torn for a moment before pulling away and grabbing another chip, cleaning it for Kurt.

"We're doing this," he said firmly. Kurt sighed for a moment before nodding and accepting the chip.

They were doing this.

* * *

><p><strong>7~<strong>

The lights cast pretty patterns across the sprinkle of wet that danced across the lonely New York streets. It was that time of night when everyone was either in bed, cuddled up in their warm sheets, or out on the town, bouncing along to the latest Adele hit.

The roads were still busy, but the streets were mercifully peaceful. Perfect for the night time strolls that Kurt so adored. He loved the feel of the light rain across his pale skin, the way the wind washed across his cheeks, the way it blew out his scarf behind him gracefully.

And Blaine loved the way Kurt's eyes sparkled in the moonlight, the way he'd let him lay his coat across the smaller puddles the way they always did in old movies. The way Kurt would giggle and shake his head at him, but reward him with a kiss for his adorable gallantry. The way he'd let him hold his hand the entire time, their fingers slotting together perfectly.

It was one of these nights that they were walking along the streets, the stars sharing their bright happiness.

As rain grew heavier, they quickly ducked into a happy, warm bar just on the corner of their avenue. Shrugging off their coats, they made their way to the bar and bought themselves beers, sitting themselves down in a cosy booth, huddling into each other for warmth.

"Good evening everyone," a voice said shyly from the stage. "I'm Dave and I'm your entertainment for the evening."

Kurt and Blaine both shared startled looks as recognition flared at the familiar voice. They looked up to see David Karofsky taking a seat at the piano, his fingers tapping across the keys lightly as he crooned out an old tune.

_Belief makes things real_

_Makes things feel, feel alright_

"I can't believe it's him," Blaine breathed, shock evident all over his face.

"I can't believe he's _good_," Kurt whispered, shaking his head in a mixture of disbelief and awe.

"He's amazing," Blaine agreed, eyes wide with wonder.

_Tonight you arrested my mind_

_When you came to my defence_

The song played on, smiles crossing the patrons faces as they swayed along in time to the pretty melody. Kurt and Blaine remained silent for the rest of the song, one in their awe as they held on to each other.

_Oh you stood by me_

_And I stand by my belief_

"Thank you everybody," Dave said as the last chords trailed off poignantly. "I'd like to dedicate that to a man I once knew when I was only a boy. He taught me what it meant to be a man and… I believe that one day he'll forgive me. I just hope I'll get the chance to apologise. To make things right."

As the audience clapped, Kurt ducked his head into the crook of Blaine's shoulder. As he felt the smile press into his collar bone, Blaine allowed himself a breathy laugh. It was alright. They were okay. David wasn't going to hurt them.

Not anymore.

* * *

><p><strong>8~<strong>

It was all still the same.

The gravel of the car-park still crunched under his feet as he eagerly skipped up to the building. The coffee stains from when Blaine rushed in late on his very first lesson were still etched into the carpet of the reception area. The mirrors of the studio still gleamed from when Sue made her mediocre students scrub them after a particularly bad rehearsal.

It was still home.

"Aww," Blaine cooed as Kurt practically bounced in, beaming as the bell above the door tinkled to announce their presence, just as it always had. "You miss it, don't you?"

"Of course I do," Kurt sighed seriously.

"But you love me more," Blaine sang.

"Not really," Kurt said absently, sending a quick wave to the receptionist before speeding off to the dance hall. Blaine pouted as he trailed along behind him, not without his own sense of nostalgia. This was the place he had met the love of his life. It would always be dear to him.

Just maybe not quite in the same way as it was to Kurt.

As they entered the studio, Blaine smiled at the familiar space, drinking in his old surroundings. He couldn't help but hum the old _Sunset Boulevard _tune under his breath.

_Everything's as if we never said goodbye…_

The floors were still the same battered white tarque, nearly grey with use and stained with memories. Blaine could make out thousands of small indents in the surface, from the press of pointe shoes and scuffs from the marks of character heels. The walls were still the same traditional cream, the odd painting standing out for spotting.

Over in the corner his piano stood invitingly. As the girls all let out excited squeals at their entrance, running over to embrace their fellow dancer, Blaine walked over to the instrument, running his fingers over the familiar keys. They sank under his touch, playing back prettily as if it remembered him. The memories washed over him, the melodies it had held, the obscene acts it had witnessed… (a smirk played across his face).

"Well if it isn't sweet, sweet porcelain and that little boy from the shire."

Blaine couldn't help but grin at his old employer's voice sounding behind him. He turned to see Kurt embracing his former coach lovingly, the other girls looking on horrified as if worried she might strangle him.

But Sue was smiling.

Which probably made them even more frightened…

"Aren't the Lord of the Rings jokes getting a little old, Coach?" Blaine called, smirking as she met his eye.

"You wouldn't have it any other way, Anderson," Sue returned knowingly and Blaine gave a fair nod.

Because he wouldn't.

"Blainey!" one of the girls (Brittany, he thought her name was) cried excitedly. "Will you play us a song?"

"Come on, Blaine," the girl beside her encouraged, "for old time's sake…"

Kurt gave him an amused look that urged, _go on you goober, you know you want to…_

Grinning, Blaine caved and made his way over to the instrument amidst the girl's happy squeals as they settled around him.

"This is for Kurt," Blaine said, shooting his blushing boyfriend a wink as he struck up a tune.

_It's been a long time since I came around_

_Been a long time but I'm back in town_

_And this time I'm not leaving without you_

_You taste like whiskey when you kiss me, oh_

_I'd give anything again to be your baby doll_

_This time I'm not leaving without you_

Kurt rolled his eyes at the song choice, but the girls squealed excitedly, swaying in time to the melody. Blaine locked eyes with his boyfriend across the piano case, their eyes smiling as they held the light.

_He said sit back down where you belong_

_In the corner of my bar with your high heels on_

_Sit back down on the piano case_

_Where we made love for the first time-_

Kurt flushed red at the change in lyrics, giving Blaine an alarmed look, but thankfully nobody seemed to notice; they had all started to dance, grooving along to the popular song. One of the girls wrapped an arm around Kurt, giving him a sweet little twirl.

_And you said to me something _

_Something about this place_

_Something about lonely nights with my lipstick on your face_

_Yeah, something about, baby, you and I _

Blaine gave one of the girls a quick gesture and she skipped over, sliding onto the stool and taking his place with the instrumental. Blaine whispered a quick thanks, standing up and sauntering down the room, singing directly to Kurt who raised an eyebrow in surprise as he approached.

_You've got a whole lot of money but we still pay rent_

_Because you can't buy a house in heaven_

_There's only three men that I'mma serve my whole life_

_That's daddy, Nebraska and Jesus Christ!_

Blaine held the note, his voice soaring above the noise as he reached out for Kurt's hands. He giggled at him, falling against his chest happily and allowing Blaine to wrap his arms around him and lead him in a dance.

_Something, something about the chase (six whole years)_

_I'm a Westville man, born to run you down_

_So have lipstick all over your face_

_Something, something about knowing it's just right_

As Blaine sang to him, Kurt hummed gently against his chest. The vibrations sent a happy thrill through him and he could hear the sweet melodic tune against his heart. A pang of sadness hit him. Kurt's voice would have been beautiful, just like the rest of him. What Blaine would give to hear him…

_It's been a long time since I've come around_

_Been a long time but I'm back in town_

_And this time I'm not leaving without you_

As the song came to a close, the cheers of the girls filled the studio and Kurt pulled back from Blaine's warm embrace, planting a sweet kiss atop his nose. Blaine blushed a little, loving how he still wasn't used to these little touches, these little shows of affection, even after all this time.

He didn't think he'd ever get over those little tingles that made his toes dance, the spark of electricity that flooded through him every time Kurt smiled in his direction.

And he never wanted to.

* * *

><p><strong>9~<strong>

The bright lights flashed harshly against his eyes as he twirled his dance partner. It was only a small chorus role, but it felt incredible to be on stage again.

He looked out into the crowd, catching a glimpse of his boyfriend's beautiful blue sweater, standing out magnificently in the audience. He smiled and winked at him, and his chest fluttered with the usual butterflies.

But as he looked to the empty chairs beside him he felt a shot of regret pang through him, hard and overwhelming.

His parents hadn't come after all.

* * *

><p><strong>10~<strong>

The sweeping rain roared all around the city, splashing wet all over the windows. Blaine rested his head against the window pain, his face lined with a hard frown.

Kurt had been distant ever since they returned from their Ohio visit and Blaine had been more than a little worried.

His attitude had suddenly turned cold and it filled Blaine with more than dread.

What if Kurt was over him? What if he was seeing someone else…?

_No, _Blaine told himself firmly, _Kurt would never do that._

But now, as he was over an hour late home, not calling at all… and he had found that guys phone number in his jacket pocket when he was doing the washing…

Blaine was freaking out.

The gentle thud of the closing door was enough to make Blaine's head snap up quickly. He caught Kurt's eye as he stared back at him, looking near panicked.

"Hey, Blaine," he greeted him stiffly, formally, moving across the living room quickly as he folded his tan leather jacket across the back of the couch, grabbing a dirty dish off the coffee table and heading into the kitchen.

"Hi," Blaine returned shortly. "…I was worried about you, you know…" he added carefully.

Kurt didn't look up as Blaine followed him into the kitchen. He turned on the taps on rinsed the bowl clean, setting it on the side of the sink to dry.

"Sorry," Kurt apologised without earnestly. "I got caught up at school…"

Blaine took a deep breath. "That's funny," he ventured, leaning against the counter, "because I called up Georgie and she said that you didn't have a lecture today."

Kurt looked up sharply, his eyes wide and angry. "You called Georgie? How could you go behind my back like that…?"

"How could you lie to me?" Blaine returned shortly. Kurt stood silent for a minute before turning to the fridge, pulling out ingredients for dinner.

"Are you going to answer me?" Blaine prompted.

"What do you want me to say, Blaine?" Kurt huffed, setting the vegetables down on the counter.

"I want you to tell me where you were," Blaine demanded, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"It's none of your business-"

"None of my business!" Blaine exclaimed. "Of course it's my business – I'm your _boyfriend_, Kurt."

"Well right now you're being a jackass," Kurt snapped back.

"Well right now you're being a child."

"You're being controlling."

"You're sneaking behind my back!"

"I wasn't _sneaking _behind your back!"

"Then what was so freaking bad that you won't even tell me about it!" Blaine finally screamed, his voice louder than he had ever used in Kurt's company. They had fought before, but never like this. Tears had gathered in Kurt's eyes as he stared back at Blaine, expression fierce. Blaine felt his chest clench and his heart begin to panic. _Fuck… what was going on?_

Kurt stood completely still and silent, his face set determinedly. Blaine huffed, sure that Kurt wasn't backing down now.

"Fine," he said, his voice breaking on the word, "but just so you know, when you keep things from me, Kurt, it fucking _hurts_. I want you to be able to be honest with me… and if you can't…" Blaine clenched his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "I can't deal with this right now," he exhaled, starting for the door.

"No, Blaine, wait!"

Kurt's voice was frantic as he made to grab for him, but Blaine edged out of his grasp.

"Fuck, Kurt, no!" Blaine shouted, pulling his arm back. "I'm sick of this-!"

_Chiquitita, tell me what's wrong… you're enchained by your own sorrow_

Blaine silenced immediately, his mouth agape as he listened to the soft tone of Kurt's voice.

He was… he was _singing._

_In your eyes there's no hope for tomorrow_

He clearly was rusty, only just re-finding his voice, and it broke on the last note.

But it was beautiful, and so unique and pretty that all of Blaine's anger instantly ebbed away and he swept Kurt into his arms, smothering him in a messy kiss.

"Oh my _god, _Kurt," he mumbled breathily, "h-how-when-?"

Kurt's eyes were shining as they smiled back at him. "I'm so sorry, Blaine," he whispered. "I wanted to surprise you… that's why I've been so distant lately… but after we visited back home I met up with one of my friends who has a dad for a doctor and they… they thought they might be able to repair some of the damage from the tumour… they said I'll never be able to sing again like I used to… but a little tune now and again…"

Blaine let out a happy gasp, kissing him passionately again.

"I'm so happy for you, Kurt," he beamed, "so happy, and so _proud._"

Kurt crushed him in another tight hug. "Thank you… that- you mean the world to me, Blaine."

"I'm sorry."

"I know. I'm sorry, too."

* * *

><p><strong>11~<strong>

Kurt snuggled against the covers, leaning over and reaching out for his human pillow, frowning slightly as he pawed at the empty space.

"Blaine?" he murmured groggily into the morning light, streaming softly through their light curtains. His ear pricked suddenly as he realised what had awoken him in the first place, a light tune floating from down the hall. He blinked his eyes open and lifted his head to better hear.

_No hard feelings between you and me_

_If we can make it _

_Well just wait and see_

Kurt snorted back a laugh as Blaine waltzed into the room, crooning out the old tune at the top of his longs, crawling onto the covers and gathering Kurt's face gently in his palms.

_No come on, now let's try it_

_I love you, can't deny it_

_Coz it's true_

_I do I do I do I do I do_

Kurt giggled against the sweet press of his palms, leaning forward to touch their foreheads together, pressing a light kiss against his lips.

_Love me or leave me_

_Make your choice but believe me_

_I love you_

_I do I do I do I do I do_

Blaine went silly and off tune on the last note, crashing against Kurt so they both fell against the pillows, sharing soft, sweet kisses. Blaine tickled his sides a little and Kurt squirmed against him.

Blaine finally let him go, climbing on top of him so their noses were just touching and their eyes were closely locked.

"Happy anniversary, Kurt."

* * *

><p><strong>12~<strong>

And when Kurt sees him, he's running on perfect punctuality (as usual). He's cradling his sheet music in a neat bundle in his steady arms, which are clad in a light hoodie (Blaine's) worn over his ballet clothes. At least he looks good.

He'd really wanted to try and make a good impression. He had gone out and practiced all his routines for the director; he had been warned that he could find fault with anybody and everybody, and Kurt knew that he wanted to be the exception.

The receptionist gives him a warm smile in response to his polite nod as he smoothly enters, quickly attaining directions to Studio 1.

When he walked in the director was already ready for him, an almost bored expression on his face that quickly vanished at the sight of Kurt. He always knew his unusual appearance would come in handy…

"Mr Hummel," the director said smoothly, "thank you for joining us."

"Thank you for having me, sir," Kurt returned in his most charming tone.

"With us today we have a new pianist who will accompany you," the director continued. "Give him your music and let's get to it."

Kurt nodded, turning towards the piano-

And his heart caught in his throat.

_That cheeky bastard._

Grinning back at him was Blaine, his hands outstretched and ready for the music.

Kurt narrowed his eyes (when he was sure the director couldn't see) and handed over the piece that he had practiced over with Blaine a few thousand times back home.

"You've got this, babe," Blaine whispered, mouthing a kiss at him before Kurt turned away.

Kurt felt his face flush slightly as he walked to the centre of the room, thinking of other secret times where Blaine had mouthed kisses not only in the air but all over him, across the loved lines of his skin, the places Blaine knew even better than the instrument in front of him.

Suddenly Kurt was feeling rather lightheaded.

How was he supposed to last the rest of the audition?

Fuck, how was he supposed to last his whole life with that beautiful, talented, charming, adorably dorky, cheeky, stupid pianist of his?

But there was no way, he realised as Blaine played the perfect melody they'd practiced with the loving touch that Kurt was so familiar with and fell into perfect time to, that he could do it without him.

* * *

><p><em>fin.<em>


End file.
